


rarely pure and never simple

by sabinelagrande



Series: two flints [9]
Category: Taskmaster (UK TV) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Criminals, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Cockblocking, Dom/sub, F/M, M/M, Orgasm Delay, Vulnerability, getting so horny you make bad decisions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:47:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25665379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabinelagrande/pseuds/sabinelagrande
Summary: There is a very good reason the Taskmaster got the reputation he has. Not that one. The other one.
Relationships: Greg Davies/Alex Horne, Greg Davies/Josh Widdicombe, Greg Davies/Sally Phillips, Rhod Gilbert/Alex Horne
Series: two flints [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1639948
Comments: 3
Kudos: 49





	rarely pure and never simple

**Author's Note:**

> This happens about six months after [worse things waiting](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22951378). It is also maybe a little bit of an apology for what I did to Josh earlier in the series.

Alex wakes up in a mood.

He doesn't know why; he can remember faint flickers of a dream, something tantalizingly out of reach. The point is that he's so hard he's aching. He's not going to be able to get anything accomplished feeling like this. Something must be done.

Alex actually likes it better when he's not the one who wants it. It's hotter when it comes out of nowhere, when he has to snap to attention. It's unbearably attractive when Greg just bends him over and tells him to catch up; he does, every time, his body conditioned to respond to Greg's. It makes him feel like a thing, an automaton, in a way that sends shivers up his spine.

But he's just going to have to give that a miss today, because he dearly needs to get off. Greg likes that, sometimes, getting to call Alex a slut for daring to want it. That's hot too, in a different way, so Alex really doesn't mind. He rolls over, preparing his opening salvo.

Greg is not there.

Alex frowns. Greg is never up before him. It's honestly a little annoying that Greg would fail to wake him up; unfortunately they were out later than usual, for nefarious purposes, and Greg thinks Alex doesn't get enough sleep anyway.

But now he's going to have to get rid of or mask this erection, just so that he can go and find Greg, bring him back here, and get it up again. Ridiculous.

Nevertheless, that's what he does; he gets himself under control, at least enough to get dressed. As is sometimes his wont when no outsider is expected, he leaves his jacket where it sits. If the Taskmaster isn't sitting in judgment, the Assistant doesn't necessarily need to be flawless. Besides, he thinks he might have gotten something unfortunate on his sleeve.

Clothed, he makes his way out of their room and into the main chamber of the back of the house. This is a nocturnal sort of business, so the room is scarcely populated, and there is certainly no Taskmaster in it. Dave and the Swede are playing cards; Dave appears to be telling a story of some kind, and from his vantage point, Alex can see that he has an extra card under the table.

"Where is the Taskmaster?" Alex asks them, when Dave pauses.

"In the front," the Swede says, and Alex can tell he can't tell Dave is cheating.

Alex considers tipping Fred off, but he needs to learn his lesson. "Right," he says. "I'm following him, if anyone asks."

"Of course," Dave says, and he glances at Alex with a hint of a smirk.

Alex leaves before Dave can rope him in any further, pushing aside the curtain and walking into Sally's domain. Alex generally doesn't visit the front of the House; it's just not particularly interesting for him. It's not like he's looking to buy anything, and if he wants a drink, there's plenty in the back. He feels sort of out of place there, like it's altogether too soft to be for him.

He does see Greg; unfortunately he sees Greg as a hand is taking hold of Greg's shirt and pulling him into the madam's office. Judging by his face, even in profile, Greg has no problem with this state of affairs.

Alex rubs his temple. This won't do, but here it is.

"Alex, mate," Jon says, his voice strained. "Do us a favor?"

\--

Sally hops up on her desk, as usual; in her chair, Greg's either too tall or too short, depending on what she wants. Greg puts a hand on the desk on either side of her, looking down with a knowing smile.

"Now what could you possibly want with someone like me?" Greg says, failing to sound innocent.

Sally smirks. "You know the rules," she says. "I give you what you need, you give me what I want."

"Oh, I'm very aware," Greg says, even though it has always been an inside joke and not a genuine business arrangement. "Well, go on. What would you like from me? I am on tenterhooks."

Sally grabs him by the shoulders and pushes down, grinning. "I think I'd like you to put that smart mouth to better use."

"You love it when I'm smart," Greg says, letting himself be pushed onto his knees.

Sally is already hiking up her skirts; it is unsurprising that she's not wearing anything under them. "I love you more with your mouth full," she says.

"Then I better get to it," Greg says, and he leans in; he doesn't bother with delicacy, giving her what she needs immediately.

Sally sighs, running her fingers through Greg's hair. "That's it," she says. "God, don't stop."

There was never any danger of Greg doing that, so he doesn't.

\--

When Alex glances at the bar, Jon is fumbling with a crate that is much too big for him. Alex goes to help him; he takes the other side of the crate, balancing Jon out. "You shouldn't be trying to lift this much on your own," he says, as they heft it onto the bar. "You'll do yourself an injury."

"And then where would we be," Jon says, wincing. He nods his head towards the door that leads to the alley. "Only I've been waiting on this shipment, and they left it and fucked off."

Alex sees exactly how this is going to go. Jon is not asking this because he thinks he can order Alex around; he's doing it because he's probably terribly anxious about getting whatever it is inside and put away. He's almost certainly convinced himself it's going to rain, though it seems clear from what Alex has seen.

"Want a hand?" Alex says, cutting off whatever begging Jon is about to do.

Jon sighs. "I'd love one."

And so it is that Alex spends a significant amount of time moving boxes. It's fine. Manual labor promotes strong morals, or something like this.

\--

"Is that enough to pay the rent for another month?" Greg asks, his head resting on Sally's thigh.

"Is what what?" Sally says, not moving from where she's ended up, leaned back, resting herself mostly on her elbows and Greg's shoulders. She sighs. "Not by half. But you are free to go."

Greg laughs, kissing the inside of her knee as he withdraws. He stands up, straightening his cravat. "Then I'll see you around."

"I was kidding," Sally says, sitting up. She reaches forward, running her hand along the length of Greg's cock, through his trousers. "I wouldn't dream of leaving you like this."

Greg smiles, kissing her. "Then you'll just have to pay me back this time."

"Oh, whatever shall I do," Sally says, smiling back at him, and he kisses her again and pulls away, walking to the door.

\--

Alex is just helping Jon with the last of the unpacking when the door to Sally's office opens. Greg steps out, looking back to say something to Sally that Alex doesn't hear. Alex had been hoping that perhaps moving crates would have taken the edge off; while it did give him something else to think about, he sees Greg and it spikes right back up again.

Alex quickly considers his options. His preference would be for a flying tackle, but it seems a bit crass. Probably wouldn't do his trouser seams any favors, either. Greg doesn't even seem to have noticed him yet, which does give Alex some options.

A normal person would walk over and initiate a conversation. Alex has never been normal.

"Hey, Greg," a voice calls from the staircase, before Alex can say anything. Greg turns towards it instead of Alex. It's Josh, who's dressed plainly in a way that somehow makes him look louche, looking down at Greg with a sly look.

Josh is nothing like the scared, sweet, naive boy who came here. Sometimes Alex hates to watch Sally take people on, the way it changes them; he can't help feeling sometimes like it's a change for the worse. Josh has been exactly the opposite. He's really come into his own since he's been in Sally's employ. He's sly and catty and smug, and he just seems so pleased with himself. Maybe this was just what Josh was meant to do. It's not like Alex can say anything, even if he wanted to.

"What have we here?" Greg says, and Alex knows he's lost the moment. He really is better off leaving.

"Oh, can you not see from there?" Josh says. "Guess you just have to come up."

Greg smirks and is gone up the staircase, and Alex has to fight the urge to kick a wall.

It's not that Greg is having sex with someone- someones- who aren't Alex; it really isn't. It's that he's wasting Alex's time. What he's doing is immaterial. What matters is that he's not doing Alex. And Greg, to be brutally honest, is not a young man. There's not going to be anything left for Alex, and he's going to wake up tomorrow morning still hard and hopeless.

All of this is nothing he didn't agree to, and on a certain level he likes it, being denied just because he doesn't matter. Today it's just getting to him.

But he is struck with an idea. He needs some time to consider his plan of attack.

\--

"It is my stated position that special boys get what they want," Greg protests, as Josh pushes him onto the bed. "I'm not going to let you make me feel like I've neglected you when you can ask whenever you like."

"You're always busy," Josh protests, straddling his waist. He slicks up his fingers and presses them inside himself, working himself open quickly.

"Oh, and you're not?" Greg says, taking Josh's cock into his hand and stroking it. "You're quite the draw."

"It's an ego boost, but it is hard work," Josh says, taking his hand away, then he sinks down onto Greg, making a noise of satisfaction. "I missed that."

"Then take your fill," Greg says, his hands on Josh's thighs.

"Don't worry," Josh says. "I'm going to."

\--

Rhod is, for the first time in his entire life, minding his own business. He's sitting at a table in the main area, the one that's closest to his private room, a place other people don't go if they know what's good for them. Rhod is presently eating an apple and just sort of glancing around like he's getting a read on the room; he looks perfectly unassuming except for the large knife that's stuck into the table.

Alex sits in the chair across from him, and Rhod looks at him curiously. He slowly chews his bite of apple before he speaks.

"What's the word from on high from His Largeness?" Rhod asks.

"There's nothing from the Taskmaster," Alex says, adopting his impassive Assistant face.

Rhod stares him down, taking another bite of apple without breaking eye contact. "What d'you need me for, then?" he says around it.

"You're a very useful man," Alex says.

Rhod swallows. "Now, see, this smells of bullshit," he says, gesturing with what is now an apple core. "If you had some sideline that you didn't want Greg knowing about, you'd never ask me about it where you could be overheard. You'd send me a fucking nightingale at dawn telling me to meet you halfway across the city." 

He is, of course, completely correct about that, though he missed out the part where they both know that Rhod would never, ever betray Greg. Rhod can't even lie to him convincingly. He does well for the first half of an argument and then slips. This happens every time.

Rhod leans forward, sizing him up, and Alex wants to draw back, put more distance between them; he reminds Alex of an alleycat looking at a mouse. He doesn't want to destroy Alex. He wants to hurt him, bat him around, toy with him.

Rhod is a deeply sick individual, but Alex can't help but feel that Rhod is, in some ways, a kindred spirit.

"I think we both know what you really want out of me," Rhod says, and Alex can feel it in his spine, the flash of heat. "The only question is whether I'd give it to you."

"You know you'd give it to me," Alex says. "The only question is whether it's still fun if I ask."

"Oh, you cheeky little son of a bitch," Rhod says, and now Alex is getting somewhere.

\--

Greg washes up in Josh's room, while Josh watches him curiously, laying on the bed with his hands behind his head. There's tooth powder too, and upon consideration, Greg uses it; he doesn't have a toothbrush, but he's done worse than use his fingers before.

"Are you sure?" Josh says, and there's a bit of a whine to his voice.

"Absolutely," Greg says, as he finishes washing up. "No offense meant, of course. You get top marks in my book."

"Oh well," Josh says with a shrug. "Not like it doesn't make my life easier."

Greg pulls the rest of his clothes on. "See you soon," he says, walking over and kissing Josh on the forehead.

"Sooner and more frequently," Josh says firmly.

Greg laughs as he lets himself out. "I'll see what I can do."

Greg walks down the stairs and through the front room, pushing the curtains aside so he can step back into his domain. The room is starting to fill out; it was practically empty when he got up. He prefers it this way.

\--

"So you want me to take you back to mine, is it?" Rhod says, and Alex is _finally_ close.

"I have a perfectly good bed right here," Alex says. He is courting disaster, and right now, it sounds amazing. The thought of Greg finding out, or worse, _walking in on them_ , is too good. He'd do something awful, something Alex hasn't even figured out yet. He's just at such a level of sheer want that getting more than he can deal with is overwhelmingly exciting.

"You twisted little shit," Rhod says, grinning. "Greg would just hate that, wouldn't he, me using his property right in his own little sanctum." Alex is so turned on that his skin feels hot, like he'll melt from Rhod just talking about him like that. Rhod puts his hands on the edge of the table. "Then what the fuck are we waiting for?"

"Apparently, me to be the voice of reason," Alex hears Greg say from behind him, then his fingers scoop into the collar of Alex's shirt, yanking Alex up out of the chair.

"Oh, come on," Rhod says. "I was right there."

"Don't act like you have trouble," Greg says. "Why don't you take a little walk?"

Rhod looks shifty, like Greg is right but he doesn't want to admit it. Rhod's got another willing victim in the wings, something Alex isn't sure that anybody but the three of them- and the victim- know. "Yeah, fine," Rhod says. "But don't expect me back."

"Fine by me," Greg says, and he turns Alex and pushes him, aiming him towards their room.

Alex goes as fast as his legs can carry him. He doesn't know what he's going to, exactly, but maybe it will be _something_ , some kind of relief. He gets the door open and Greg is right behind him; he shoves Alex forward before shutting and bolting the door himself.

An instant later Alex hits the wall, some of the wind knocked out of him by the impact and the rest of his breath taken away from how Greg looms over him.

"Do you know what, little Alex Horne?" Greg says, sliding a finger between one of Alex's braces and his shirt, running it up and down slowly. "I knew you wanted it this morning. Your slutty little hips were moving in your sleep. You needed to get fucked so badly when you woke up that you came looking for me." He gives Alex a keen look. "Is that right?"

Alex swallows. "Yes, sir."

"You wouldn't have cared if I'd bent you over in front of everyone," Greg says.

"No, sir," Alex says, because Greg will know if he lies. He'd have done absolutely anything, even though that's something he doesn't want to do.

Greg smirks. "And when you couldn't have me, you tried for the next best thing, even though you knew Rhod would tear you into pieces."

"Yes, sir," Alex says uneasily, not sure how Greg feels about that part.

"Let me tell you how my day went," Greg says, releasing Alex's brace, which snaps against his chest. "I haven't gotten a moment's peace. First I needed to pay the rent, then Josh cashed in a chip." Alex knows it's for show; Greg is too nice, and he'd roll over for Sally or Josh whenever they asked for it, sexually speaking. "Now, how many times do you think I came today?"

"Twice, sir," Alex says, because he is capable of simple arithmetic. It also probably means that Greg is spent, making this a punishment and not an advance.

"Oh, and you're usually _so_ clever," Greg says. He leans in closer. "I haven't gotten off at all, because I've been saving it to take out on you."

"You have, sir?" Alex says, shocked. It's the state of things that he feels touched by the gesture, that Greg has held back for his benefit, is taking care of what he needs. Greg has brought this thing to share with him, and Alex is still dealing with how to accept anything.

"Yes," Greg says. He's right in Alex's face, inches away. "And now I'm going to fuck you until you forget your own name." The corner of his mouth ticks up. "That's what you wanted, isn't it?"

Alex just lets himself fall into it. "Oh god yes."

"Good," Greg says, pushing away from the wall, and Alex feels cold without him so close. "You, naked, on the bed. Do you want to be bound?"

"No, sir," Alex says, forcing himself to ask for what he's really craving. "I- I want you to hold me in place."

"Me versus a little thing like you?" Greg says easily, like Alex couldn't throw him off without a thought. "Not a problem."

Alex strips quickly, like he's been dying to do all day; it takes some doing not to toss himself onto the bed and just lay there spreadeagled. He opts for something a bit more presentable, kneeling in wait. Greg is not hurrying as he undresses, taking his clothes off and putting them where they belong. Alex digs his nails into his thigh to keep from lunging at him. It doesn't do anything to lessen his arousal, naturally, but that's immaterial; he just wants to keep himself from moving. He's already hard again, needing Greg's hands on him desperately, Greg's _anything_ on him.

Greg stalks towards him, looking predatory, and Alex just wants to bare his throat. "Hands and knees," he says, and Alex immediately falls forward, bracing himself. The bed moves, and then Greg is behind him. He spreads Alex open, pressing the pad of his thumb against his hole; Alex is completely dry, but right now he thinks he might take it that way if it just meant he could have Greg inside him now.

"Whose is this?" Greg says, pressing a little harder in a way that shouldn't feel good but does, Alex parting for him just the smallest bit.

"Yours, sir," Alex says, his thoughts slow and thick.

"And what do you want me to do?" Greg says.

Alex almost says something else, something he would have said before things changed, before wanting things was something he allowed himself to do. "Take it," he says, letting his head drop.

"Do you know, I think I will," Greg says. Alex feels him shift, not moving his thumb; he's reaching for the oil beside the bed, which is preferable. He comes back, and he only takes his hand away so he can pour the oil onto his fingertips. It doesn't take much of Greg's hand to do the job; his fingers are enormous, and Alex is so ready for his cock that he can't even think.

Greg pushes into him, steady and not stopping, his cock spreading Alex open, and Alex moans, loud enough that it startles him a little bit. Alex is not loud in bed, or, really, ever, certainly not the type to start moaning when they haven't even begun.

"Oh, so that's how bad you need it," Greg says. "Guess I better give it to you, then."

Greg wraps his arms around Alex as he starts to thrust. He puts one arm around his midsection, holding Alex to him; he bars Alex's chest with the other one, his hand sliding up and settling around Alex's throat. Alex grips the sheets so tight his knuckles go white. This is exactly what he wanted so desperately; he could have made do with Rhod, but he wanted _Greg_. Greg, covering his body, making him his, easing the incredible tension inside him.

"Please," Alex says, and it sounds thin and pathetic in his own ears.

"Let me take care of you," Greg says, and it sounds like a directive, not a kindness; that's still easier to deal with for Alex. "You're mine, and I won't have you tying yourself into knots."

"Yes, sir," Alex says meekly. Greg pushes into him a little harder, and he moans again, unable to stop it.

"Let it out," Greg says. "I want to hear how much you want me."

Alex gasps, and any idea he might have had of being quiet is gone entirely. It doesn't feel good and it doesn't feel accustomed, but it's like he _has_ to make noise, has to pour it all out for Greg, give him everything. Thank god, he's being rewarded for it; Greg is driving in deep and hard and exactly right, like he was meant to be doing it, like Alex was meant to be taking it.

"Good boy," Greg tells him. "That's a good boy, take me, take everything."

Alex completely loses track. There isn't anything except Greg's body pressed tight against his, the place where they join. He doesn't need anything else, not a single thing, and there is nothing else. He isn't thinking about whether they're being overheard; he isn't thinking about whether Rhod will be annoyed; he isn't thinking about whether this is going to end up being some kind of tease.

It's not at all why he hired Greg, but he's the only person who's ever made Alex able to stop thinking.

He doesn't know how long it lasts, because that's immaterial. All he knows is the sensation of building, the feeling coiling inside of him, his body going tenser and tenser as his mind turns into liquid. Finally he's there, right there, on the very edge of it.

"Sir," he gasps, and he's not sure whether he's asking for permission or just giving a warning.

"Go on, boy," Greg says, either way. "Come on my cock."

His come splashes over his stomach as he spends himself. It feels like every frustration, every moment of denial, gets washed out by it, like it's not just a physical release but a mental one. Whatever it represents, it doesn't really matter. He sags, letting Greg hold him up.

Greg is still moving, faster now, but not for much longer. He pulls Alex back hard, their skin slapping together, and if Alex could get hard again he would. But Greg stops, pressed as deep into Alex as he can go, and Alex has a moment of anticipation even in his current state; then he can feel it as Greg comes inside of him, the way his cock pulses, the slick feeling it leaves behind. It's finished, but Alex can't bring himself to feel bad.

Greg pulls out of him and lets him go; Alex just lets gravity carry him forward, ending up face down in Greg's pillow, which is thick and smells like Greg. Greg lays down next to him, turned towards him, and puts a comforting hand on the small of Alex's back.

"I love you," Alex says into the pillow.

"Who knew the easiest way to get you to say it was to fuck it out of you?" Greg says, though he's already heard Alex say it before. He kisses Alex's temple to lessen the sting. "I love you too."

Alex finally gets it together enough to at least move his head, looking at Greg, but he finds he doesn't have a good opener. He mostly just feels loose-limbed and slow.

"Don't fuck Rhod in our bed, no matter how hard up you are," Greg says, looking unamused.

"I-" Alex wants to say he'd never do it, but he was very much going to. "I took leave of my good senses," he says. "I'm sorry, sir."

"I'm just fascinated that that's something you could manage," Greg says.

"I'm fascinated that you think anything about my life counts as 'good sense'," Alex says.

"You're like the rest of us," Greg says. "Your moral compass doesn't point north. That doesn't mean you don't have a good head on your shoulders."

"You think better of me than I deserve," Alex says, something he would never normally admit. But it's been a process of things like that, making admitting things normal, letting Greg in where Alex has always shut him out. It's things like this and not, for example, the fact he has multiple layers of back up in case Greg ever does do him wrong, but this part feels easier. Alex has made his life out of plans and contingencies. Somehow the concrete things feel harder to share than emotional insecurities, or the fact that Alex has emotions.

"I really don't," Greg says gently. He rocks Alex roughly with one hand. "Come on. Can't cuddle if you're all the way over there. Do your job."

Alex huffs, but he does move, letting Greg hold him. Alex is not a cuddler by nature but has not been given an option to not do it; it's growing on him, though. Greg's arms feel good around him like this, too, satisfying in a different way. He's warm against Alex, his heat radiating into Alex's body. It's a comfort, and Alex is not accustomed to them.

"I hope you know you owe me at least one more go," Greg says.

"If you didn't ask, I'm afraid I would have to insist," Alex says.

Greg laughs, the breath of it rustling Alex's hair, and Alex curls into him, letting Greg hold him as close as he likes.


End file.
